


My Yakuza Baby

by Hopeless_Blue_Kiss



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biracial Character, Cultural Differences, Fluff and Angst, Gaara is a BAMF, Gaara is touch starve, Jiraiya's A+ Parenting, M/M, Minato's A+ Parenting, Naruto being Naruto, Naruto has a hero-complex, Naruto is a natural flirt, Naruto loves making friends, One-Sided NaruSasu, Tsunade's A+ Parenting, Yaoi, narugaa - Freeform, one-sided NaruNeji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeless_Blue_Kiss/pseuds/Hopeless_Blue_Kiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaara is a feared mafia boss that strikes terror into his subordinates and Naruto is the unfortunate American who stumbles on the red head in his hour of need. Sick and unable to take care of himself, Naruto's small act of kindness and harmless flirting, lands him neck deep in the yakuza world, whether he believes they exist or not. NaruGaa. Yaoi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hello, this is Hopeless_Blue_Kiss a.k.a. Simply Hopeless here with a new story for you. I really wanted to put a story up on 12/12/12 at 12:12p.m. and since I had this story chilling in my flash drive, I thought, why not. I think that if Sasuke and Naruto shouldn't be a canon pairing then at least Naruto and Gaara should be since they are so cute together, especially if Naruto is seme. So hopefully enjoy and please review. I love receiving positive comments on my stories and it sort gives me the initiative to update.

My Yakuza Baby

Naruto knew that he looked like a foreigner in a foreign land but that was because he was. Sure he had been born on an American Navy Base in Japan and had a Japanese mother, who had unfortunately died in childbirth. But no matter how anybody looked at him as he sat in the Konoha terminal, he looked like he didn't belong anywhere. Not his naturally spiky blonde hair, nor his cerulean blue orbs or even the sun-kissed, golden-brown skin he obtained while surfing off the coast of California.

He, himself, would have proudly declared that he was simply an American; a Malibu beach bum if anyone requested further. The only reason that he had returned to Konoha, Japan was because his father had insisted that his son was losing a part of his Japanese heritage by cooping himself up for ten years in America.

"Like that old otaku can talk," he snorted to himself even as he glanced down at his watch. 10:45 p.m. winked up at him in glowing digital numbers on his wrist. It had been more than two hours that he had been waiting for his ride to pick him up after practically two days in the air with one stop in Guangzhou, Canada where he got to stretch out his legs for a bit in the airport terminal. Naruto had known that Japan was pretty far from California but he had honestly thought that if he caught a late flight out he could sleep the night and a quarter of the day away and be in good old Japan in the late evening. His wasn't good at geography but he was pretty sure the fastest way to any destination was a straight line, not a detour. But that was the least of his worries.

His grandmother Tsunade was supposed to be taking him home from the airport since his old man was out playing war with some of his navy crew. It was bad enough that that freak of nature never seemed to age and looked more and more like he could be his older brother instead of his father the older Naruto got. But to go off and play war-games at his age? And his grandmother was no better, staying up late to gamble and drink when most women her age were thinking about retirement. Tsunade also seemed to have the seem freakish genetics as her son since she was supposed to be way into her late sixties but looked old enough to be Naruto's mother.

He grumbled to himself, wondering if he too would avoid getting wrinkles and gray hair when he was a grandfather before he dialed Tsuande's number for the umpteenth time. He knew that she was probably getting liquored up in one of those pachinko parlors; her assistant, Shizune, would probably try her best to pull her employer from the slot machines but to no avail. "She's probably lost her phone in a bet," he grumbled after his fourth call went straight to voicemail.

He was done with watching families and lovers reuniting over and over again in the airport terminal. Not one small poster board asked for a 'Naruto Uzumaki' or the family name he refused to take, 'NamiKaze'. He scuffed and shoved the all black 'NYC' baseball cap further down on his head until the brim of his cap shadowed his blue eyes before he shoved his phone into his burnt orange hoodie pocket and gathered his things from the terminal bench.

It wasn't much. One rollaway bag and a backpack was all he had come with. The rest, including his prized orange monster surf board, had been delivered to his dad's home earlier that week despite him begging his perverted grandfather, Jiraiya, that he'd study harder in school and even get a part-time job if he allowed him to stay with him in Cali.

He hadn't even bothered to call or walk his way to the line of taxis waiting to pick up potential customers from the airport. Naruto doubted that if his family, who had been unprepared to pick him up, would at least be prepared enough to have a key that he could easily find and use to enter. So he walked his way to the closest, cheapest and overall clean motel, his gratitude showing in his tired smile to the innkeeper that they were willing to accept the few crumbled up American dollars that he still had left over. He wanted to hold off using the credit card his father gave him, since he the sixteen-year-old was stubbornly determine to find a job and pay his own way.

"How about those Yankees?" the innkeeper said, emphasizing each syllable. He passed the blonde a key and decided since nothing good was going on, he'd strike up a conversation with the blonde foreigner.

"They are doing way better than those shitty teams in California," Naruto admitted, off-handedly in perfect Japanese. He offered the dumbstruck innkeeper, a vulpine smile before asking him if there was a convenient store near by before saying his thanks and leaving.

Hunger bid Naruto to quickly lock his things up in his room except his knapsack before he jogged over to the convenient store next door for something to eat. He perfectly understood why the innkeeper looked so shell-shocked that such an obvious foreigner could speak just as fluently as a native. It was because Japanese was his first language until he was six and ended up moving in with his freshly divorced grandfather to Los Angelos. His father insisted that he continue with speaking Japanese by having a native speaking Japanese person come over every Sunday afternoon to tutor him rain or shine.

But despite being born with the Japanese language on the tip of his lips, he couldn't quite get the hang of reading and writing it, no matter how hard the kind old tutor tried. It was because it wasn't their forte and because he had gotten frustrated with the different Japanese writing systems; especially when he was trying to assimilate as soon as possible into his new American school with his new American friends. So he hoped, as the electric doors of the convenient store slid open, that by looking at the plastic bento boxes and cartoon pictures, he could figure out which items he wanted to buy.

He scanned aisle after colorful aisle of the twenty-four hour convenient store, his blue eyes narrowed warily on the day old bentos. The closest thing he came to Asian food since his move to America was ramen noodles and the American-style Chinese food that he proudly speared with his plastic fork. So all this seaweed, rice stuff that he saw perfectly wrapped up made his stomach cramp up until he grabbed a few ramen cartoons with a smiling Japanese woman on the lid, proclaiming in both English and Japanese that it was spicy/hot.

He was sure that if there wasn't a microwave in his room then he could find a way to charm the motel's innkeeper to let him borrow his to nuke his dinner. But his brows wrinkled up in a frown as he realized he'd have to use his dad's credit card after all in order to buy his purchases, including the cookie dough ice cream he snagged on his way to the cashier.

"How much?" he asked as kindly as possible as he sat his treasures of war down. His eyes glanced up briefly at a severe looking man on the scene of some fire, talking about how it the fire was rumored to be caused by a clash with rival yakuza members. Naruto didn't believe much in the yakuza except in one of the mangas he occasionally read when he did actually go to the library. It was doubtful that an average American like him would be running into some fully tattooed guy trying to sell his kidneys; and if he did he had a can of whoopass he wanted to deliver to them to help alleviate the growing irritation he was feeling for being forgotten by his family.

His smile strained as he thanked the sleep-deprived teen manning the cashier station before he quickly walked out, his stomach demanding to be appeased with something. He had been so focused on heading back to his motel to eat and possibly sleep away the headache that was creeping up on him when suddenly a petite looking redhead stumbled into him in the parking lot of the convenient store.

He was ready to snap at the redhead for knocking his purchases out of his hand and scattering them all over the dirty parking lot. He softly cursed as he watched the cap of his half pint ice cream pop off and roll further down the street before he looked at the person who had stumbled on him. The redhead seemed to be ten inches shorter than Naruto's 6'0 height and seemed uneasy on his feet as he tried to glare at the blonde.

But before the blonde could accuse the seemingly pissed off redhead, the redhead's legs buckled under him quickly forcing the blonde to catch and press him closer to his own body. It was instinctive, the need to protect someone that appeared weak and defenseless but the stranger didn't appreciate it as they glared up at him.

"Hey kid, don't go falling for me, okay?" Naruto said, laughing nervously as he looked into the prettiest, feverish sea foam green eyes he has ever seen. He practically forgot to be hungry as the red head scowled up at him, pale cheeks flushed with fever and slight embarrassment as he tried but failed to push the foreigner away from his person so that he could stand on his own.

"I don't need your help," the redhead spat out weakly, his eyes watering slightly as he sneezed twice, on after the other.

"I honestly don't think you should be out this late. It's what… One in the morning, okay maybe midnight but if you're this sick you should have someone take care of you? Should I walk you home? Or maybe nurse you back to health?" Naruto offered before offering a smile that only seemed to widen as the red head glowered further. It actually made the grumpy teen look kind of cute and that was saying something since he really wasn't into guys and the redhead's nose was cherry red and slightly runny.

And now that the redhead was close up like this he could see that there were also dark circles under his pretty sea foam eyes, probably from lack of sleep. He knew he'd found it hard to fall asleep when he was full of mucus too. But that didn't explain the Japanese tattoo on his forehead that seemed to stand out starkly against his pale skin once the harsh fluorescent lighting shown up against it.

"I told… told them I didn't need their help and I… I don't need your help either. So get off!" gasped out the redhead trying to push away once more. He succeeded this time as the blonde released him from his encircled arms so that the blonde stumbled drunkenly backwards before leaning dangerously to the side.

Quickly Naruto captured him up again, this time sweeping him up in his arms so that the redhead wouldn't be able to escape him so easily without falling hard on his ass.

"Shit, just hold still. I know you're a dude and you have all that pride and shit. I get it. I hate being weak in front of people, especially strangers. But whether you like it or not you need me. Let me just help you get whatever it is that you need and then you can proceed however you like. Is that okay? Or should I just drop you on your ass right now?" He inquired this in a slow, calming voice as if to soothe the disgruntled sick person who had tried to viciously rock out his arms a moment ago.

"Fine, whatever," the redhead scuffed out looking sheepishly away. He could feel more than here the blonde stranger chuckling at him and his stubborn pride.

"Now look at you acting all grown-up," Naruto, mused in approval. He quickly made a U-turn towards the convenient store before the redhead could say anything else. His arms gently placing the disgruntled redhead on top of the cashier counter so that he could sit and rest instead of being carried around like a girl in his arms. "Just tell me what you want and I'll get it," Naruto quickly said before the redhead could snap out a waspish retort.

"I need a cold compress, aspirin, cough medicine and a bag of ice," the redhead rattled the list off on his piece of crumpled paper. Watching as the blonde with the alluring blue eyes, nodded his head before he began to walk off looking for the cough medicine. The redhead honestly didn't believe in chivalry even though many citizens quickly offered him things in fear of his might. But it seemed clear that no one he knew was dumb enough to act so familiar with someone of his station.

If they even dared dream of it he would have broken all their fingers if they were lucky. Yet, watching the blonde hunting down his items in earnest, the burnt orange hood bobbing up and down the aisles was slightly comforting. It had almost put a faint smile on the redhead's lips as he dabbed his cherry red nose with a crumpled up piece of Kleenex. That peace lasted for a space of two minutes before some asshole smashed in one of the convenient door's glass sliding doors before knocking over a food display.

"I told you I saw that shithead Gaara!" cried out a sunbaked teen with a high, feathered ponytail and swirly tattoos up and down his arms.

"Who'd have thought, he of all people would be hanging at a lowly convenient store. So Kidoumaru you want to pay our respects to this yakuza pup who thinks he can be king?" asked a burly guy who stepped through the hole the broken glass door created. He looked like a demented clown with a orange Mohawk down the middle and miniature Mohawks on the side leaving a wide expanse of his head bald. He cracked his meaty knuckles before sliding on his brass knuckles for good measure.

"Yeah, yeah, Jirōbō let's whack him like a piñata for what he did to our Sound crew last week," said the sunbaked teen as they made their way to the charge. That was, until an unexpected blonde smack Kidoumaru in the face with his black backpack.

"Like hell I'm going to let you rile up my patient," Naruto snorted. This was the fight he had been waiting for.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello guys, this is Simply Hopeless a.k.a Asssassins' Kiss a.k.a. Hopeless Blue Kiss here with a new chapter for you guys. I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to update but writer's block was kicking my ass. Like seriously, for like two or so months I've had half this story finished but couldn't figure out how to tie it all together. But I've been working on this diligently through my spring break and I would love it if you guys tell me what you like about the story. NaruGaa is like my second favorite pairing. NaruIta is the first and NaruKaka is third but both ultra rare to find and NaruSasu fourth but what I usually right in the Naruto genre =/. I hope you guys enjoy, review and please read the A/N at the bottom. Thanks! XP.

My Yakuza Baby

Before the sun-baked teen, Kidōmaru, could mutter a curse and steady his self, the blonde smacked the guy with the upswing of his backpack. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he heard the distinctive tear of one of his backpack straps. But that didn't stop him from placing his snApred black and orange Converse foot against the dazed man's chest and kicking him into a colorful display of Hello Kitty cell phone straps.

"You should have stayed down, dipshit," Naruto snorted. He swung his backpack over his shoulder and fingered the place where his straps met the canvas cloth of his backpack. He couldn't use his bag again as a weapon because another swing like that might spill out the precious contents of his bag and he wasn't going to have that. The contents inside included: a PS2 game system with accompanying games, a vintage stack of 70s PlayBoy magazines he had stolen from his lecherous grandfather; and eight cups of emergency ramen. They were 'Uzumaki Essentials' that he practically carried with him everywhere when he was unsure of where he'd end up, especially seeing as his family fucking abandoned him.

'Why force me to come over hundreds of miles from what I know, only to fucking forget me?' He thought for the umpteenth time before shaking his head with a begrudging smile. He didn't need that kind of distraction weighing him down when he was about to throw down on the wall of flab that was starting to walk menacingly towards him. Neither, he now realized, did he need the weight of his backpack getting in the way and possibly tearing completely open.

"Hold these." He ordered off-handedly, blindly handing the backpack backwards to the sick redhead. He knew he needed speed on his side because sheer muscle wouldn't cut it. So he tossed the redhead a careless smile of thanks and apology over his shoulder before he began to bounce on the soles of his Converse feet.

Left… Right… Left… Right…

He shook his arms and hands, revving himself up before he drew his closed fists up to his face, keeping his guard up and his mind focus on his goal. 'Knock down Humpty Dumpty then get the fuck out.'

He honestly didn't want to culminate a weird ass night with a stay in jail so he had to wrap things up quickly before the police showed up. Besides he had a patient to attend to after this and he'd be worth shit if he had to turn around and ask for help after forcing the prideful little redhead to accept help from him in the first place. So slowly he closed the distance between him and his opponent. His piercing blue eyes watched wide load's every movement as he tried to figure out how the fuck he was going to wrap this up.

His body instinctively spun to the side, expertly dodging a meaty fist careening towards his head. Naruto let out a string of colorful and somewhat imaginative curse words that had even the redhead raising his non-existent eyebrows; a few bags of Funions exploded open upon impact of the meaty fist colliding with it instead of the blonde's skull. The blonde nearly paled at the huge dent in the metal shelf knowing that could have been.

"Well shit, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was ask," Naruto said with all the bravado he did not have. He didn't know they grew them big and mean in Konoha, Japan; but he'd be damned if the fear that had iced his veins seconds ago wasn't burning into excitement now.

xXx

Gaara snorted at the blonde idiot who handed him his heavy backpack before charging forward to face off with Jirōbō like he was going to be the next Rocky Balboa. He crinkled non-existent brows in a frown as he hoisted up the heavy backpack to rest at his side on the counter before he reluctantly turned his sea foam eyes from his would-be blonde savior in order to address the problem behind the counter. Even sick and feverish as the redhead was, he wouldn't be much of a born and bred yakuza member if he didn't notice the anxious convenient store clerk trying to subtly hit the silent alarm.

The sleep deprived guy was so shaky and shifty behind him that if the blonde boy-wonder over there wasn't playing hero and inventing very creative curse words that made even his eyes widen slightly in alarm, then even he would have noticed something was up. Understandably if Gaara was an ordinary civilian, instead of a yakuza heir, he might have been pressuring the tired cashier to jab the silent alarm quickly. Or better yet, try to find a way to escape this hellhole. But he wasn't ordinary, thank Kami, and they couldn't have the local authorities aware of the dilemma unfolding before the cashier's eyes. That would be no fun. So he did the only thing that any yakuza member would rationally do in this type of situation, threaten.

"Press it and die." Gaara snarled out in his stuffy voice, his threat short and sweet. He quickly dabbed at his dribbling, cherry red nose with the crumpled up tissue; his other hand produced a deer knife that had been hidden somewhere on his person. Within a flash he was leaning over the counter with his tissue hand gripping the cashier's shirt front and the other hand pressing the knife against the startled cashier's jugular.

He might look ridiculous with his watery eyes and his runny nose that forced him to sniff every few seconds or risk having mucus running freely down. But his killing intent was clear and it wouldn't take much to break the skin, ending the clerk's life. He knew it and the cowering simpleton knew it as he pressed the knife teasingly closer. His feverish, sea foam eyes watched for a moment in fascination as the knife seemed to jump slightly with each pounding throb of the jugular vein he threatened to slice wide open.

"I… I won't. Se… See," stumbled out the cashier, carefully raising his hands. It was just his luck that Daisuke had called in sick earlier that night, sticking him with covering the night shift too. If life wasn't so unfair he would be safe at home with his dick in one hand and a dirty magazine in the other. Not stuck smack dab in the middle of a brawl; a knife pressed against his throat by a guy, who seemed on the verge of sneezing in his face and accidentally cutting him wide open.

"Good, now where are the cameras? And don't give me that bullshit about this convenient store not having any. I've been in a foul mood all day and I've been itching to see someone bleed. You dig? Or should I?" He questioned in his stuffy voice, digging his blade into the hostage's skin for emphasis.

His non-existent eyebrows wrinkled together when he realized how fucking ridiculous he sounded with such a stuffy voice. Gaara hated getting sick because that meant his subordinates falling all over themselves trying to pamper him like some helpless invalid with a time bomb strapped to him. Anyone would have a short-fuse when they felt as lousy and clogged up as the redhead did. That's not to say that he wasn't usually prickly and a tad violent; it just intensified his already bad vices. What with his personal doctor coming in every hour on the hour to prod and poke his sweating, fevered flesh; and his older brother Kankuro simpering in the corner with his puppets, ready to hop up and fetch something like a lowly gopher to a yakuza heir, instead of acting like an older brother who gave a shit. But that didn't matter. He already knew no one really cared about him, just his status. He didn't need anyone anyway.

'And now this…' He thought in frustration, sighing. He was the 'Red Terror of Konoha' and yet he was forced to escape his home like some kind of common runaway so that he could breath both figuratively and literally. The only things preventing him from finding sanctuary in his usual hideaway was the desperate need for medicine, boy blunder over there trying to fight for his honor, and this idiot clerk that looked seconds away from pissing himself. So when the teenaged employee pointed meekly to the two slightly hidden cameras, Gaara took it as a sign to let loose despite of his sickly restrictions.

"Good, now stand over there in the corner like a good little boy while the grownups have their discussion," ordered the obvious teen with all the authority that came of his station. Green eyes watched the employee hesitate at the sudden release of pressure on his jugular by the knife before nodding his head dumbly and moving to sit in a corner that was visible enough to the redhead's peripheral. As soon as that was done Gaara carefully looked around for something to throw at the cameras to disable them before he saw a jar of large jawbreakers that might do the trick. So leaning further on his side he grabbed them, popped open the case and with an expert throwing arm, born of his intense training, he lobbed the first huge ball of candy right through the lens of the camera before doing the same to the other. Satisfied, he straightened up, pivoted on his ass so he could face the other side of counter before he hopped off, prepared to tie up the clerk.

"Now let's tie you up while you tell me where you keep the security tapes," Gaara said nasally. The redhead only paused in his menacing steps towards the clerk when he spotted a roll of electrical tape that was under the clerk's counter. His eyes lit in feverish glee as soon as his nails dug out the end piece and he yanked out a huge strip of stick grey adhesive with a loud RRRRIIIPPPPP.

xXx

Naruto knew nothing about the finer points of karate or any other martial arts. As a matter of fact, what he knew was a white boy's smattering of karate that was taken from too many days playing classic fighting videogames like Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat, watching tons of badly dubbed Kung Fu movies, owning the entire Karate Kid franchise of DVDs, and attending one week's worth of Mr. Kim's YMCA Karate classes. Naruto quit those karate classes, however, soon after he realized the classes didn't involve flying spinning kicks or learning how to karate chop someone in their throat. That however didn't mean he didn't know the finer points of whopping someone's ass.

He had to. Not because it was a guy thing to do or was remotely fun, though in some ways it was. It was because sometimes you had to shove your hand down a bastard's throat to stop them from calling you a 'fake-ass chink' when he was actually Japanese and not Chinese. A Japanese boy, who didn't look Japanese at all, not even when he looked like the Asian version of whatever the fuck ethnicities made up his white American father. He straddled two ethnicities and yet he never felt like he belonged to either. But he managed to carve out a niche for himself among a ragtag group of friends that had barely anything in common except their instinctive attraction to Naruto's natural charisma and positive spin on things.

It had already been over a day since he last saw any of his group, but he already missed Shikamaru's lazy ass, Chouji's white boy, fat ass, Ino's gold-digging ass, and of course he couldn't forget his 'brother from another mother' best friend, Leroy 'Killer Bee' Jones's black ass. No one could forget him even if they wanted to because the asshole beatboxed an intro for himself every time he met someone. No matter if it was a close friend or an enemy he was fighting, he'd let everyone know who the hell Killer Bee was even as he made hamburger meat of their face.

If any of Naruto's crew were in the same area as him and not halfway across the fucking ocean, then all he had to do was hit them up on his cell and they all knew what was going down. Even Ino knew how to throw down when it came to defending her friends. She'd get all Uma Thurman on their asses with a lead pipe if anyone threatened any of her 'personal-male-harem.' This was funny because none of her guy friends had enough money to meet her rich ass standards. But he'd have to forget his road trip down memory lane for right now because the fucking wall of lard that was Jirōbō, wasn't giving him much time to focus on anything else.

"Hey, look here you Jabba the Hut-looking Motherfucker, can't we just talk things out?" Naruto managed to say jokingly before he dodged yet another meaty fist. Any blows that he landed on Jirōbō were quickly absorbed like he was punching at a wall of Jell-O and it was more than a little frustrating. He was laying out his best moves to impress the redhead, although when he had quickly glanced back at the sick teen from time to time, he noticed the cute redhead was otherwise occupied.

The blonde knew that the only hope he had on defeating this guy, before tiring himself out, laid in getting behind the fat guy. If he gave one good kick to the small of the back that had the least flab or kicked him in the back of the knees he knew the big oaf would fold like a house of cards. But it was obvious that Jirōbō wasn't having any of that as he lunged for him yet again, his meaty arms hoping to crush him towards his body in a sweaty embrace.

They were at a virtual stalemate because Naruto was too quick to be hit or caught and Jirōbō was just too damn fat to receive any affective damage. The only thing that was receiving a real beating was the environment they were fighting in as Naruto feigned to the left before he took off to the right down the aisles. He managed to slide open the freezer door and rip open one of the ice bags in order to scatter the ice behind him. He knew the way that Jirōbō was charging after him that he had too much momentum behind him to stop his self from the icy collision with the freezer and everything in between it.

"Fuck yeah! That's how we do it in Cali!" cried out Naruto at the final collision. Unable to help himself he started doing the Dougie before he heard someone clearing their throat impatiently, making the blonde stop. "Ahah, sorry about that. Got a little bit excited, but now that everything's taken care of cutie, let me get the rest of your things and we'll be off," he murmured chivalrously as he jogged up a cleared aisle.

"Don't call me that," grumbled Gaara as soon as the flushed blonde trotted up to him, eyes still bright with the glow of victory. He brushed off the big hand offered to help him down, choosing to hop down himself and walk around the big oaf to grab his own supplies.

"What? Cutie?" Naruto asked bemused, turning and following behind the icy redhead as if he hadn't just been snubbed despite fighting for Gaara's honor. He came to a sudden halt when his response was a smoldering glare and the reflexive clenching of Gaara's hand around the handle of his knife. Blue eyes eyed the way slim, pale fingers toyed with the deadly edge before he continued on as if visible threat wasn't there."But you are kind of cute, for a boy that is. Even with your nose running like that. Kind of makes me wonder what you'll look like when you don't look so stuffed up." He mused aloud even as he thoughtfully decided to sit up one of the displays he or lard ass probably knocked over in their tussle.

"You're a world class idiot," grumbled Gaara, dabbing at his dribbling nose. He then tossed two or three packages of cough/fever medicine into a small shopping bag he filched before picking his way through the debris in his aisle. "Don't you dare think that just because you complimented me and helped me a little that I trust you. Because I don't," Gaara said bluntly, turning his head to jab a finger to the chest of the teen that was still was following him closely like a lost puppy. He was never one to censor his mouth or his fists for that matter and he wasn't going to do so now because he was saved from getting his own hands dirtied.

"Well I didn't say you have to trust this world class idiot, now did I?" Naruto said with a crooked smile, holding onto the finger before he could jab or pull away. Then before the redhead could say anything wapishly, he quickly swept the befuddled teen into his arms. "Just let me save you," he rumbled, with a foxy grin. Quickly, before the redhead could react beyond the subtle flush of ears and cheeks, Naruto moved swiftly back up the aisle. One-handedly he eased his backpack onto his shoulder and collected his own purchases along with the one filched from Gaara, barely sparing glancing at the two unconscious and one tied up occupants left in the store.

He quickly shoved his NYC all black baseball cap onto the redhead's tussled hair, the brim covering those smoldering jade pools before he threw his burnt orange hoodie further over his head to help shadow his face. He had no doubt there might be a camera outside of the store or somewhere close on the neighboring building as soon as he carried the redhead through the door. So he hunched a little so that he wasn't quite 6'0 and also protect the precious cargo that was still staring at him in suspicious wonderment.

"It'd be easier if I could just kill you," Gaara muttered to himself as soon as they had cleared the well lit parking lot. The soft crunch of broken glass under the blonde's feet from the shattered entryway long since cleared as they sought shelter in a dark alley a block or so away. It was clear that the bumbling blonde most not have heard his obvious threat because why would he have left out a sudden chuckle that could be felt through the thick fabric of Naruto's orange hoodie and against the ear pressed to his chest? The red head wanted to carve out that cocky smile above him with a rusty spoon because how else would he explain the color that suddenly flooded his cheeks at how good-natured that laugh seemed.

"I heard every word you said. But you won't scare me away that easily. You should just accept my kindness or else I'll have to devour you." Naruto murmured his threat silkily into Gaara's ear, even as he sat the redhead on the lip of a packing create. Then while still bent over he gave the red head's ear a playful nip. "Tasty."

"Stay back, stay back," the red head cried out almost in a panic. Gaara violently pushed the blonde backwards in order to regain his personal space and sense of self. His trembling fingers clutched his ear even as he stared in bewilderment at the amused look on the blonde American's face. His cheeks felt hot and his ears had probably already pinked up, just like his runny nose, from the playful nibble. And then a sudden idea came to Gaara, freezing him up as if he had been struck. 'Was this guy seriously flirting with me?' thought the yakuza heir, trying to grabble around the implausible. No one had been that ballsy or that utterly stupid to try and flirt with the waspish Gaara if it wasn't to gain something. But what? Surely this idiot didn't know who he was or the kind of fire he was playing with?

He shook his head vehemently 'no' at the very thought, so caught up was he in denial that Gaara didn't notice that the smiling idiot dared to approach him again. Even when he did and threw him best glare that had reduced more than a few to wet themselves on the spot, the blonde imbecile's smile never wavered as he took another step.

"Why'd you save me? We don't even know each other," Gaara pressed tonelessly, unable to wrap his mind around such charity. He didn't like how close the blonde wanted to be to him even after they had reached a place far enough away from the store to part ways. Besides the brief warmth he felt in battle with his enemies or the soft prodding of his family physician he hadn't remembered being so close to somebody that he could feel the body heat of someone else brushing against his own cool skin.

"Would you rather have me just let those two guys drag you off and do whatever the fuck came into their head?" Naruto growled out loud enough to make the redhead visibly flinch. Now he was pissed. He didn't expect the redhead to trust him. This sure as hell wasn't Mayberry. But he would be damned if he'd be questioned for helping someone in need, stranger or not, when it was clear it was needed. When he didn't get a response after a minute or two he sighed out in frustration, grabbed his backpack that had fallen when Gaara had pushed him. He made sure to handle the bag carefully so it wouldn't rip further then it had already before he prepared to leave with his things and no goodbyes. But he was forced to stop before he could take two steps away by a small, pale hand on his sleeve.

"Honestly? I… I don't know…" Gaara trailed off in his bewilderment. How was he to function properly when kindness was as foreign to him as sushi may be to this blonde. He wasn't the type that just accepted things as they were. He grew up in a world where every action had reasoning behind it and so something done not out of fear or obligation was both perplexing and refreshing. "I… thank you I guess. But I'm not used to people volunteering to help me without it benefiting them in some way," he said sullenly, non-existing eyebrows wrinkling together. His flaming red hair was still covered mostly by the all black Yankee ball cap that Naruto had forgotten to grab before his impromptu departure.

"Hey look…" Naruto began cautiously after the confession and the silence that stretched out awkwardly like a fat drunkard. "You know, the way you handled that cashier I knew suddenly you could have probably handled your own even as sick as you are." He turned within the restriction of Gaara's hold and looked down at the small redhead, who seemed almost childish with the black baseball that was almost too big and his hand still firmly holding his sleeve. "You're sure as hell not weak. Sort of makes me want to see how you are when you're all healthy and stuff. But shit, don't you… don't you feel it lonely sometimes relying on just yourself? It's nice having some comrades ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. I know my friends back in America would," Naruto said with the warmth fused with pride for his friends.

"Then why did you come here?" Gaara said sullenly, looking accusingly at Naruto from the brim of his hat. 'Why did you come into my world?'

"Hell if I know. Something about reconnecting with my family, I guess. But if they were really my family they would have been there to pick me up, right? That's why I don't depend on blood to determine who family is or not. Family is whoever you feel comfortable with. They are your precious people, don't you think?" Naruto explained amiably even as he gently tilted the pointed chin of Gaara's up so he could see that pretty face.

He honestly didn't like the redhead so unsure of himself. It was clear this guy was in need of a friend or at least a hug and so without preamble that was what he did. He drew that small frame into his large embrace, snotty nose and all, and hugged him as if hugging a lost friend. Maybe they could be friends if the redhead didn't try to kill him for being too presumptuous.

Gaara stiffened within the embrace. His non-existent eyebrows rising over his smooth brow as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the wall of orange fabric that now blocked his view. Again, he would like to reiterate the fact that he was not used to so much physical contact. He honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him. Had hugged him and expected nothing back from him in return except maybe a return of said hug.

Gaara was unsure of how to proceed at first when he realized the blonde idiot had yet to release him from his bear hug. He would later blame this on his fever; but Gaara was suddenly licking his dry lips and hesitantly wrapped his thin arms around as much as the blond as he could. Small hands, that were not pinned down from the embrace, grabbed fistfuls of the cotton fabric of Naruto's hoodie and held tightly as if he was desperately holding onto an overlarge teddy bear that was threatened to be taken away. He rested his forehead against Naruto's broad shoulder and closed his feverish eyes with a sigh of finality that beckoned unconsciousness to claim him.

So this was a hug?

It feels so warm…

So safe.

A/N: Hey , this is your longtime authoress Simply Hopeless here. I've been on since 2003 and I'm thinking about hanging up my keyboard for good. I've danced around the subject off and on for three or four years now, but I'm honestly thinking about doing it for real this time. Maybe I've lost my edge or something, but I don't think I love fan fiction writing as much as I did when I first started out. Back then three reviews could have spurred me to write even if it was 'I like, update, more'. Sure I wasn't the best writer then, but I know I've grown leaps and bounds, despite my grammar. I'm still growing and I'm proud to say that a lot of people have favored my stories and me as an authoress. But as my skills improved I've found that I desire reviews that will help push me to improve and/or encourage me/ stroke my ego. That, however, has sorely been lacking for a lot of my stories and the alerts/favorites frustrate me because it shows that you guys like it, but won't put in the effort to tell me why.

So long story short, for better or worse, I'll try to update 6 times in 5 months for a few of my stories from different fandoms. By the beginning of June 2014, if I feel dissatisfied, I'm going to hang up my fanfic writing hat for good guys. If I do find that I'm loved I'll start writing again in August 2014 in time for an anime convention in Baltimore. I've thoroughly enjoyed my ten and a half years of writing and growing as an author, but I don't think I can put up with the disappointment of writing and feeling like some of my readers don't care. It doesn't mean I think all my readers don't care. I know there are tons of people out there who have written well thought out reviews from one or two sentences to mouth-watering paragraphs that have made me just itch to write just to see what you might say next. But as I look back at some of my reviews for inspiration for a new chapter I've realized that some of my reviewers write the same thing over and over again and I'm beginning to question why bother agonizing day in and day out how you might react to something in the story if no one tells me.

So if you have ever liked any of my stories, please remember to review. It doesn't have to be fancy but I need to know that I shouldn't retire. If I do retire, I'll keep my stories up for the rest of the year before deleting my account on here and the other websites. This might leave a lot of stories with unresolved endings but I will not be giving any of the stories up for adoption. I've put a lot of effort into my work, they are my children and I'd feel hurt to see someone else continuing on where I left off. So if I find anyone trying to adopt and finish my stories for me I will report you. But hopefully it won't come to that. =/


	3. Chapter 3

Hello Hopeless Blue Kiss here with a new chapter for you. I couldn't help myself. I had this already cooling on my computer and had to update to see if more people would react to this. This is actually the latest chapter to one on another site so we are all caught up. Yeah. The ending was supposed to be different, but things change. It might hopefully come next chapter because this chapter ended up being longer then I had originally had planned. I don't own Naruto, hope you guys enjoy and tell me what you think of this chapter. I hope to update every three weeks but first I need to write more chapters to make that happen... oh well. Your reviews motivate me so please do. 

My Yakuza Baby

"Tsunade-sama… Tsunade-sama pick up the Goddamn phone; it's Shizune!"

Bells, tiny anime voices and the happy plinking of small, metal balls rattling down against the pegs, glass and metal interior of several hundred pachinko machines were almost deafening to the petite woman, who was wearing the same bob hairstyle she had had since the seventh grade.

Shizune whispered urgently into her cell phone, openly hating going through these pachinko parlors with their decade old carpeting, fake, glossy plants, flashing, bright lights and the storm-like rattling of hundreds of balls clinking together. If it was during the day she could have easily picked out the busty blonde sneaking sips of her breakfast from a whiskey flask while beating at the useless piece of machinery.

That was because most decent adults with lives worked during the day and/or tended to their housework and families; instead Tsunade-sama lounged around pachinko parlors, which thankfully meant less of a crowd for the petite woman to weed through. But since it was close to a little after 2 a.m. the pachinko parlor was stuffed with every last dredge of life without a curfew or purpose. This in turn forced her to go methodically up and down the aisles to pick out her well-endowed boss.

Shizune's voice was wasted calling out her employer's name aloud or dialing her cell phone yet again. There were already twenty text messages and counting that she had fired at her employee every ten to twenty minutes. Even the idea of getting the pachinko parlor employees to intercom for Tsunade-sama would be barely heard, especially if her buxom boss was in the zone.

It had boggled the raven's mind how many hours the blonde could mindlessly spend pulling the lever and cursing softly under her breath for her small metal balls to land in the special bucket that would guarantee her more little balls. It was a vicious cycle that knew no end. Even when her boss managed to win back all the balls/money she had lost, she didn't know when to stop gambling. So it all went back to 'the house' anyway.

Honestly, half of the time Shizune didn't even feel like bothering to hunt down her boss, except that the hospital she worked for paid her good money to be a glorified babysitter, instead of the Chief of Surgery-in-training she'd thought she would be. She didn't even have a personal life to speak of outside of taking care of her teacup pig Ton-Ton and phone calls to her family. It was because she was too busy substituting for Tsunade-sama in almost all things from answering the blonde's phone calls to attending meetings.

It became almost habitual when she told everyone else that Tsunade-sama was fine and was attempting hands off training to see if she was the right fit. It had been weeks since Tsunade-sama taught her something new and Kami only knew how long it was since she had last scrubbed in for surgery herself. Three or so times a week Shizune just barely managed to coax the blonde to sit at her desk and pretend that she was actually worth the money the hospital was paying her; when in reality the blonde idly ignored her paperwork to play online poker games and drink like a fish.

It was too much.

Shizune was stretched as thin as it was. She needed more than the weekends to keep her grounded. If she even got those days off. Overworked, underappreciated, dangling on a thin wire of possibilities and opportunities.

The only thing that kept her going; woke her up and kept her from curling up in a question mark of disparity on her bed was her stubborn tenacity that she deserved better than whatever this was. She had paid her medical dues, put in the hours, garnered the medical experience while simultaneously accruing student debt along the way because she wanted to be chosen for her merit. Not because she was related to a certain buxom blonde.

Not to say that this particularly frazzled woman couldn't be motivated to do things for family. That was why she out there on one of her precious days off. Not because of work, but because her nephew Minato had called her around midnight clearly distressed and worried about his son and mother.

"Aunt Shizune I'm sorry to call you so late in the night but do you know first-hand if my mother had picked up Naruto from the airport at 8:15 p.m. like she had promised she would the day before? Or is my son still waiting outside the airport with no one to care where he was?" Those were the first words out of his mouth as soon as she answered the phone.

It took a few aspirins and the continuous repetition of Minato's inquiry for Shizune to fully process what he was requesting. But when it sunk through her sleep fogged brain, her stomach clenched in panic. He didn't know. Of course he didn't know how much his mother couldn't function outside of Aunt Shizune's firm hand these days. It wouldn't surprise her if the work-aholic military father even knew that his mother was imploding on herself after receiving signed divorced papers two months ago.

Shizune would have gladly volunteered to pick up her grand-nephew herself, even if it was one of her precious days off. She hadn't seen Naruto in person for almost five years, since the last time she visited Jiraiya and Naruto in California. So seeing him now would have been a delightful pleasure. She would have anticipated how much he had grown now that he was in his teens and not a scrawny eleven-year-old, who enjoyed pranks a little too much. But now… now…

Minato, unfortunately, had been stuck on the American Navy Base to help host the annual war games that was being held between his American Naval officers stationed in Japan and the opposing Konoha, Japanese Naval officers. He had solely relied on the fact that no matter what shit his mother was mixed in, she'd pull it together long enough to at least pick up her only grandchild. But when he hadn't heard from his son or mother, since both calls kept going straight to voice mail, he had no other choice but to call his over-worked aunt.

Shizune vaguely remember stumbling out of her warm bed after that declaration, Snoopy Pajamas and all. She should have scolded Minato for waiting so long before calling her. But instead the kind-hearted woman soothed her frantic nephew with kind reassurances that she would find both his son and his mother. He had suffered enough.

The petite woman barely looked at herself in the mirror as she ran a brush through her bob haircut. Bare feet were shoved in some well-worn Nikes. Hands quickly snatching up a few essentials, including her cell phone. She secured her teacup pig in her arms before she was out the door, keys in hand.

She honestly feared what a sixteen-year-old could possibly do so late at night, in a somewhat unfamiliar and boisterous city. It sure as hell didn't help that he could barely read a lick of the local dialect and wouldn't have thought to exchange his U.S. dollars beforehand to barter for a ride of some sort. However, even if by some miracle he did exchange some of his money there was still an even slimmer chance the younger blonde thought to mesmerize his new address; probably relied heavily on both Jiraiya to ship his things to the right place and his other grandparent to pick him up and take him to his new home like a responsible adult would.

So here she was, her puffy coat barely covering her blue Snoopy pajama set, as she held one useless cell phone in one hand and her teacup pig, Ton-Ton in the other, close to her chest. The raven-haired assistant, because that was what she felt more and more every day, went up twenty aisles before doubling back again and closely peering at the ghostly reflections mirrored against the glass of the Pachinko machines.

One of the patrons that knew her, from prior visits like this, waved her over and offered a handful of cheerios to her greedy little piggy. She gave him a tired smile and rested her hip against the side of his machine. She made sure she was close enough so Ton-Ton could greedily munch up the treats from a leathery palm while she exchanged greetings with the old colleague.

"Lose her again, huh Shizune-chan?" His voice was so scratchy from years of heavy pipe smoking that he practically croaked, hence the patrons lovingly naming him 'Frog-sensei'.

"It's the same ole', same ole' Saurtobi-sama. I thought Sis was here because I've been everywhere else. But unless she's bound up her chest and is wearing a wig I don't see her," she sighed out. She peered half-heartedly at the teen beside them wearing a hot pink wig before rolling her eyes in distaste at the youths these days.

"If you are looking for that no good protégée of mine then I'd try all the way in the back by the flickering light and the broken pachinko machine. They got a secret room behind there where they… Well I'll leave that for you to discover. Don't want to get kicked out for helping," he murmured before chuckling half-heartedly. "Here give me Ton-Ton while you handle business, she'll be fine with me. And stop tacking -sama at the end of my name. I haven't been the chief of that hospital since I retired and Tsunade took over."

"Thanks, I'll try to remember that," Shizune murmured, wringing up a tired smile. She leaned over to kiss his wrinkled brow and gave him a one-armed hug before she handed over her precious pig and made her way to the back.

The nighttime staff and even some of the daytime staff knew the raven well enough to know that stopping her when she was trying to extract her employer from the gambling parlor was useless. She may look small and silly with her shaggy childhood bob and her Snoopy pajamas, but she knew how to strike certain parts of the body to cause paralysis or stop breathing.

Some had even been there to witness it happen and had been more than a little flabbergasted when she returned moments later with the complaining blonde in tow. She would then bow deeply from the waist, piggy usually in tow, and apologized profusely before scolding her victim for making this difficult on her as well. She would then punch or poke her victim again to unlock his muscles and bow once more in apology before leaving with a tired smile.

So when the big burly man with the scar over half of his face known simply as 'Ibiki' saw the petite woman approached him, he didn't hesitate to push the 'out of order' pachinko machine aside for her. She smiled up at him and leaned up to kiss his cheek, for being a "good boy" before she walked into the gambling den. Shizune might have even entertained the idea of slipping him her number, knowing him as a rumored warm-hearted softie, if she hadn't already known he was a former cop turned yakuza member. She had enough trouble in her life with the buxom blonde, she didn't need to borrow more. So with that in mind, she tried to quickly pick out the blonde through the dimly lit, smoke-filled room.

There were several serious gamblers playing mahjong or poker, but it was fairly easy to spot the natural blonde among the grey heads of doting yakuza members and high-paying gamblers. Apparently she had been suckered into a game of strip poker with a few old men who had hoped to ogle her in her panties and bra. But surprisingly the shirtless blonde, who was known for her month-long losing streaks, was winning, a lot. She had a pile of expensive clothes, belts, loafers, rings and watches sitting beside her. She seemed ready to win another expensive bauble when Shizune marched over go her and slapped her employer's cards face down. "She folds," she said tersely.

"We were going to win it back sweetheart. So go and wait in the corner while the grownups play," husked out a pot-marked gentleman, showing a mouth full of gold teeth.

Shizune started to crack her knuckles; her mind going through her rolodex of pressure points she would have to strike on the five doting gentlemen before they could even lay hands on her. She had a pocketful of senbon needles in her puffy coat in extreme cases of emergencies. But she tiredly hoped that things wouldn't get too hairy where she would need to reach for them.

However, before she could even open her mouth again to kindly yet firmly request Tsunade stand up and come with her, a side door burst open and two tall, disheveled young men stumbled out in fear, covering their heads.

"Temari-sama, let us explain," pleaded one of the men wearing a bandage across his nose.

"What the hell do you mean you lost my Otouto Gaara?! Is that it? Is that what you want to explain Kotetsu? How you and Izumo, who are supposed to be his personal guard, somehow lost the precious heir. An heir who is clearly sick and vulnerable to enemy attack, because I'm all ears," she hissed. Her hands quickly raining down blows from a large wooden fan before waiting for a tense few minutes for the two cowering idiots to try to rectify the situation.

"It… it wasn't our fault. We were walking with him to retrieve medicine and he sort of slipped away…" Kotetsu petered off weakly before his best friend could shush him.

"Sort of slipped away?" the female teen, asked stonily.

"Temari-sama, he requested permission to throw up in an alley and we stationed ourselves to cover the entrance when—We. Will. Find. Him. There have already been reports on the police scanner of a scuffle involving the Sound gang and someone fitting the boss's profile. He was said to be with some blonde foreigner. They can't have gotten far," Izumo spoke up quickly. Then tensed up as if prepared for another blow from the blonde teen.

When they didn't come, he looked worriedly at his friend, hesitant to lower his arms down because they were the only defense allowed against the furious woman. The idea of even trying to retaliate, lay even a single digit on the blonde spitfire, made him inwardly cringe. She wasn't just big sister to the precious Yakuza heir. She was a demon in her own right, the way she rained down blows on her opponents with her fans. These were love taps compared to the broken bones she could deliver with a simple flick of her wrist.

"What the hell are you looking at?" snarled Temari glaring at those who dared look up from the poker table. Then she turned her head to skewer her seafoam green eyes on her bootlicking subordinates. "Don't return until you find him or you both will be needing the doctor next," she hissed before slamming the door so hard, that several of the geezers flinched.

"Shizune this is bad, really bad. I can't stop winning. I went to three pachinko parlors before coming here and it was raining metal balls. I thought my luck would change if I came here among these serious gamblers, but I keep winning. The only reason I took off my top was because it was getting stuffy. Something… something bad is going to happen. I just know it." Tsunade began to babble off nervously into the wake of the silence Temari had left behind.

She obviously failed to read the tension in the room as the two men known as Kotetsu and Izumo gave them a cursory look before departing swiftly to attend to business. Shizune was already reaching for her senbon needles. The need to leave now thrummed through her veins as she prayed that the blonde foreigner that was mentioned earlier wasn't theirs.

"Did you at least remember to come to pick up your grandson before you went off on your winning streak because my grand-nephew is worried?" She bit out tersely, methodically counting out the security guards she might have to take out as well as the sketchy gentlemen at the table. She took a step back, keeping them as much in view as possible, even as she prayed her sister-in-law would take the hint and get her ass moving.

"Shit, I forgot the boy! What time is it?" She cursed, fumbling for her cell phone in her cleavage. "It's dead. No wonder," she laughed nervously, trying to stand onto wobbly feet.

"I wonder how long it was vibrating before it finally died," Shizune deadpanned. She doubted if any of the elderly gentlemen saw her chest vibrating, they probably wouldn't have mentioned it to the clearly smashed blonde. The jiggling alone would have dried up any decent souls urge to speak up. In fact, they seemed fairly disappointed when the Chief of Surgery quickly slid back on her top and reached for her rightfully won baubles.

"You men can have your clothes and wedding rings back. But I'll take the rest as donations towards the hospital's new burn unit," she said, finally managing to stand. She kissed and patted a few bald heads to ease hurt feelings and offered to give free medical advice to one or two of the players who she had realized might need her assistance in the near feature.

The buxom blonde then took one last mouthful of warm sake before she reached for Shizune's hand to steady herself. Her vision swam slightly as she fumbled to take purposeful steps in her high heeled sandals. Her attempts to reach for Shizune's cell phone was brushed off as Shizune quickly murmured that she didn't have Naruto's new cell phone number because he had received a new cell phone that would provide him coverage with these Japanese cellphone towers. (1) That Minato had forgotten to give it to her and besides him, only Tsunade would have the new number in her dead phone.

Shizune sighed in frustration, quickly sent a text to Minato to send his son's number her way so she could dial him and quickly retrieved her teacup pig. Sarutobi helped her prop Tsunade against the car until she could safely tuck Ton-Ton in the front passenger seat before giving her blonde mentor the okay to crawl into her backseat if she promised not to hurl. She gave the old man another hug, murmuring an appreciative thanks and waited until he had disappeared back inside the den of sin before looking down at her phone to see with relief Naruto's phone number flashing briefly on her screen.

"Hang in their kid."

xXx

"Hi Aunt Shizune, I meant to surprise…Oh, so you call me now Baa-chan? Isn't it kind of late to worry about me when you were supposed to pick me up over six hours ago?" grumbled Naruto, clearly hurt. He was mindlessly flipping through channels on the small colored television set in his motel room. All the while his other hand distractedly ran through the hair of his sleeping companion.

"Why… why didn't you answer your father's phone when he called you?" Tsunade slurred out, her 'you's sounding more like 'chuu's. He could almost hear his doting Aunt in the background, fretting; probably trying to guide his drunk-off-her-ass grandmother away from whatever vices she had grabbed hold of this time.

"I don't need the gambling booze queen to lecture me when you're clearly in the wrong here. I don't see why the fuck you guys want me? Like honestly you forgot about me just as quickly as you did when I was little. Nothings seriously changed to make this situation work. So why, just tell me why did you want me in the first place?" he demanded, his voice rising a little in volume to show his sheer frustration.

He had given up everything to be here. He had built a life…. A home with people who loved him and knew him for who he was and not some exotic oddity. Naruto had made his own family, had forged his own path and just because his actual biological family suddenly remembered him, didn't mean he should be the one sacrificing everything for their peace of mind. Not when the results were this.

"You know what?" he sighed out in defeat. "I don't care what excuses you make. I left my home. You get that, I left my home and everything I know to be here. If this isn't going to work out let me know now so I don't waste my time trying to fit in a place I'm clearly not wanted... I'm safe for now with my friend Gaara. I'll see you sometime tomorrow I guess… Hopefully you'll be sober enough to give a shit about your only grandchild," he said hollowly before hanging up the phone and cutting off any objections.

Immediately his phone began to ring angrily dancing on the bedside table he placed it on. He quickly powered it off and sagged back further against the headboard he had been leaning against. The conversation left such a bad taste in his mouth that he had not noticed that his roommate had stirred. That was… until he spoke up.

xXx

"I'm a friend?" Gaara's sleep thickened voice croaked the question out in surprised wonderment.

He didn't mean to say it out loud. Actually Gaara had been sorely tempted to fall back to sleep after getting over the shock of someone running their fingers through his hair.

Sure, initially he had stiffened; affronted and ready to attack the stupid American blonde for once more encroaching on his personal space while he was clearly vulnerable. But it felt so fucking good the way those blunt nails lightly scratched at the back of his nape before combing upwards through his red dyed hair, that he had already unconsciously pardoned Naruto's offense.

The yakuza heir had to even bite back a mew of pleasure more than once as those thick fingers ran in soothing circles, tenderly massaging his scalp before returning to scratch lightly at his nape again. He'd be naïve to hope his cheeks, ears and neck weren't flushed pink with more than his illness; but he didn't give a flying fuck as he felt those fingers drag him back down into reassuring sleep with each pull through his locks. He couldn't remember a time he felt so cared for and he deserved to be selfish, at least while he was so ill.

It was really only unfortunate that he heard his name 'Gaara' and the word 'friend' paired in the same sentence. He could have indulged a little longer, dreamed a little deeper, but those two words had doused him in cold reality.

Gaara realized he must still be sleeping or not fully awakened because no one had ever called him a 'friend'. Not voluntarily and definitely not without some ulterior motive. Even if the person was a stranger and didn't know his sordid past, all it took was time. He'd stupidly get his hopes up for just a brief moment and as soon as they knew who he was, what he was, ideas of friendship quickly abandoned them for self-preservation and he was left out in the cold again.

Shit, if it wasn't for the fact that he was soon going to inherit the Sand Yakuza Organization and had the same parents as his siblings, he doubted even his sister and brother would have bothered to even check to make sure he was still alive.

Sure they showed concern whenever he had taken ill like he was now and more than likely would be in a frenzy to hunt him down once they knew he slipped his guards. But he never got the impression that they saw him as their little brother. Yet, how could he blame them? After all, he did kill their parents, even if he didn't mean to.

Baki, his father's former bodyguard and his current tutor in all things Yakuza, refused to bring it up. Even when Gaara had been particularly persistent in his adolescence. The man would only scuff and say that it was his parents time to go and a little pipsqueak like him shouldn't be full of himself to think he, alone, took out his father and mother. It was mildly comforting; although it didn't stop the yakuza heir from stubbornly piercing the complete story together after a handful of years.

He had always been a quiet child that was usually overlooked because of his slight form and what his birth symbolized. Even at a young age he felt the albatross around his neck. So he made the shadows his friends, blending in and greedily taking in every bit of gossip and drunken banter between servants and yakuza members alike about his parents. There were very few otherwise willing to speak about his parents, so why not?

The way she looked, the way she had disciplined one person or another; how strongly their former yakuza boss had led them. He clung to every morsel of information like a wild, starved thing. No matter how cruelly they painted his part in the story towards the end. He kept coming back for more.

He already knew he was useless... Worthless. It didn't matter if they mumbled messily put together apologies or just shooed him away like some worrisome fly upon discovery. There words of friendship and condolences did not penetrate him. He remained tightlipped and closed off, as he quickly ran away. The shards of hatred, both theirs and his, weighed too heavy and jagged in his belly to allow such niceties to overpower them.

From what he could gleam each pregnancy that their mother Karura had had, resulted in preeclampsia even worse than the last until his father and her doctor begged Gaara's mother to terminate him upon discovery for fear she wouldn't make it this time around.

She had stubbornly refused because she had always wanted a big family with little ones running about and two children weren't enough. Karura loved children and had wanted a big family since it had only been just her and her brother Yashamaru going from foster home to foster home before she had finally fell in love and married Gaara's father.

Karura actually had been loved by all. Her nurturing nature and sisterly advice endeared her to every single Sand Organization member until they had become somewhat of a big, dysfunctional family.

No matter the shady shit they did in their daily lives to keep 'the business' running, she never judged. She cooked for them; worried about them; smacked even the scariest looking member over the head with a handy frying pan or whatever cooking instrument was on hand if they did some stupid shit that nearly got them killed.

So when she died of complications after giving birth to him, every member of the yazuka clan took it hard and seemed to mourn for months. Gaara's brother and sister lost a mother, his Uncle Yashamaru a sister, and his father Rasa took it hardest of all. It came to the point that no one was really surprised that their yakuza boss had finally given into years of depression following Karura's death and finally committed suicide, on the sixth anniversary of his wife's death.

Gaara could only vaguely remember his poorly attended sixth birthday party being interrupted by Baki announcing the Boss's passing. Upset, the volatile nine-year-old Temari had blamed the stunned six-year-old for killing their parents before their Uncle Yashamaru had slapped her across the face and forced the blonde to apologize to him. It was the last time he remembered himself crying as she stiffly stood in front of him and bit out a "I'm sorry" before she sat down and stonily looked at her melting ice cream cake. But even if Temari and Kankuro never blamed him openly since then, he wasn't blind to their hateful looks when they thought he wasn't looking. The lack of physical and emotional connection after so many years was proof enough.

So this whole 'being friends' thing was fucking huge. Well… it would be, if Gaara actually believed and cared about people anymore. Good thing he refused to be that stupidly vulnerable and naïve again. He refused to let himself fall on his face and be weak. So he made sure to build up a barrier just as fine and dense as sand against himself and the emotional crap the real world might bring.

"Oh, so you are awake." Naruto stated approvingly, unaware of the walls the redhead was trying to reinforce against the blonde's brand of charm. Without hesitation the American leaned forward until his cool forehead was pressed against Gaara's fevered one.

He smiled apologetically down at his flustered patient. His observant blue eyes taking in the flush that swept across pale cheeks and a pale nose. "I'm sorry, but I don't usually keep a thermometer with me, so this will have to do. Mama Ruth-Ann, my best friend's grandmother is better at this kind of stuff then me. But… you feel really warm," he said finally, his warm breath ghosting against the redhead's face before he finally pulled away. "Maybe you should take some of your medicine now," he said good-naturedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

The blonde didn't seem perturbed at all to be derailed from his souring thoughts of his grandmother and his home situation. He seemed more than willing to offer the sick redhead one of his sunshiny smiles even as he naturally turned his body towards him. He honestly didn't care what Gaara would say later, the redhead looked fucking adorable lying beside him with his hair all rumpled and messy; his sea-glass eyes all wide and innocent with confused suspicion and frustration. He reminded him strongly of the red pandas he used to obsess over as a kid. "You're blushing too."

"I'm not!" Gaara snapped out crabbily even as he sat up suddenly, back stiffened. He could feel himself weakening against that smile and he didn't like it at all, so he went on the attack. "Besides you still haven't answered me. Why did you call me your friend?" Gaara pressed suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. His fingers already itched to reach for his deer knife in case he didn't like the blonde's answer.

"You don't think I'd hug just any ole' body unless I thought we could be friends, did you? I'm blonde, but not easy," Naruto said, with a wink and a playful bump of his shoulder against his patient's.

"Where are we?" Gaara asked, refusing to acknowledge Naruto's statement even as his stomach clenched and tingled in nervous excitement. He tried to visualize a dense enough barrier against him and the charming idiot even as he took in the shabby yet clean walls of what obviously appeared to be a motel. A motel, whose bed he was sitting on with said charming idiot.

"Don't give me that look. It's all I could afford and I hadn't planned on taking you back to this crappy motel. But when a guy faints in another guy's arm it sounds like kind of a dick move to hide him behind the crates in the alleyway until he regains consciousness. So I brought you here, but you can leave if you like," Naruto suggested. He gestured towards the door, trying to look as nonchalant as possible although failing miserably.

"I've never had a friend before," Gaara confessed softly. Now that he was given an option to leave, he couldn't see himself wanting to part from this 'Naruto' person. He was so easy to read and charismatic that the redhead was curious if this guy really could be too good to be true.

"That can't be true? Can it?" Naruto seemed bemused by the statement. He wanted to dismiss it believing it one of those things people say modestly when they want to seem humble. But as he playfully rolled his eyes at Gaara he nearly choked on his spit. "Shit, your serious. I… sorry… I… didn't…. sorry…" he finished off lamely.

Gaara stared at him stoically, waiting until the blonde petered off and was done with making an even bigger fool of himself. It was actually slightly comforting to know that Naruto's charm could only extend so far before he tripped over himself. It made him more human… more real and attainable somehow to know he was capable of running into mistakes like everyone else.

"My siblings barely tolerate me and I thought my Uncle was my friend," he continued matter-of-factly after a little more awkward silence. "But then he tried to kill me one night because he swore my mother's ashes told him that that was the only way to restore her honor. That she craved my blood and others. We committed him before he could do more harm, but he had already killed two before coming to my bedroom clutching her urn.

"Then after I convinced my tutor to let me go to private school I couldn't find anyone to befriend me. Apparently my family's reputation proceeded me and everyone was too afraid to get to know me… Well not for the right reasons. So I just gave up," he said as if talking about some other pathetic soul and not himself.

He didn't want sympathy though. He wasn't some pathetic, sniffling thing that couldn't survive without friends. He survived this long without hugs or smiles. He'd survive long after this bumbling American idiot left him. He was sure…

"Well shit, that sucks hot monkey ass. I mean damn… your Uncle… and the siblings, who seem like assholes by the way, just saying…. But it's kind of great in a perverse way because I can be your first right? I've… I've never really been anyone's first before," he rambled off both excited and sheepish at the same time.

It was quite clear this blonde was the type who wanted to see the glass half full even when it was cracked and leaking. It also didn't help that when Naruto was this sincere and he bowed his head down while looking up just so, he looked like a kicked puppy that was still hopeful despite everything going on. Gaara wanted to smash that hopeful, optimistic face in before he got swept into that disastrous tide pool because the idiot naturally pulled that look off without trying to manipulate.

It just seemed too intimate and raw for the Subaku heir to take in all at once and so he roughly pushed the blonde away from his person. He never expected the blonde idiot would tumble off the bed like some demented tumbleweed and onto the floor. His nonexistent eyebrows flew upward, his teeth biting worriedly at his bottom lip as he cautiously took a peek over the bed.

"You don't have to give an answer right away," Naruto grumbled, pouting slightly while rubbing his sore head. It hurt like a motherfucker but he was a hardheaded son of a gun who wouldn't be deterred because he knew he might have come on a little strong. It was just Naruto had never felt this great an urge to hug someone as much as the disgruntled redhead.

Clearly this guy was touch starved and in need of a friend. 'God gave him to me,' he thought suddenly fastening onto this idea. He had a crap-tastic few days and the Lord was finally rewarding him all those hours he spent in Mama Ruth-Ann's unconditioned Baptist Church with this anti-social, downright murderous ball of love.

If Gaara wanted to push, he could fucking push right back. Someone needed to fight for him no matter if he thought he could handle it himself or not. He was a challenge and the blonde loved challenges. His blue eyes lit with determination as he extended his hand in friendship even as he continued to rub the place where his head had connected with the floor with the other hand.

'This idiot honestly doesn't know the effect he has on people. He's dangerous for a whole new reason then I thought,' grumbled Gaara warily. He cautiously took the offered hand because he had a feeling the blonde would not put it down until he grabbed it and shook. He doubted their friendship would last the night, not with his handlers looking for him, but he'd humor the blonde for now.

"You won't regret this Gaara," Naruto said excitedly, beaming.

"I'm already regretting this," Gaara deadpanned. His heart thumped quickly in his chest as he huffed and wrenched his smaller hand from Naruto's grasp when the idiot seemed determined to hold it longer than necessary. "Do you even have an off switch."

"NOPE!" Naruto said proudly with a dopey grin as he stood up from the floor and flopped across the bed. He then pumped his fists ecstatically in the air. "All will fall before the power of friendship. Muwahaha!"

Gaara snorted in amusement despite himself. His lovely pale eyes rolling at the blonde's boundless energy before lightly kicking the blonde in the side with his socked foot to get his attention. He nearly choked on his spit as those blue eyes immediately fastened on him, attention immediately given.

"Wha… What's California like?" he barely managed to choke out a little lamely. He hadn't known what to say initially but when those eyes were on him like that, he had to say something or risk blushing like a fucking school girl, which he was still doing despite him NOT wanting it to happen.

"Hell," Naruto deadpanned, saying the first word that came to his head.

"Wha?" Gaara murmured intelligently, pausing in dabbing at his dribbling nose. Damn cold.

"There's smog, earthquakes, forest fires and mudslides. I had to attend the funeral of my friend's friend because of a drive by shooting." He happily ticked of his finger one by one, a thoughtful furrow in his brow as if he was trying to scrounge up if he forgotten some other tragic flaws.

"But you say you miss it," Gaara insisted, unsure now.

"Every place has its ups and downs. It's the friends and family that surround a place that makes it a home you desire. As corny as that might seem, those people back in Cali are my precious people. I'd die for them; you know? I'm also planning to go back there when I graduate. They can't keep me here once I'm an adult," he said firmly, lips forming a thin line of determination.

"So you're going to leave me." Gaara hadn't meant to say it, especially not like that, but there it was. He knew that things wouldn't last the night. He just hated to be proven right so quickly.

"Missing me already?" Naruto seemed to brighten at that thought, despite the obvious scowl given to him. He turned on his side, hand balancing his head as he looked at the redhead thoughtfully.

"Shut your stupid face idiot or your ass is going to hit the floor again," growled out Gaara vehemently. He moved to give Naruto a vicious kick at the obvious amusement at his misery. He didn't like being vulnerable and here was this guy—this stranger who knew fucking nothing about him—prying him open, seeing his soft squishy side and he could just stab him over and over again, he hated this feeling.

"It's not going to be for a long time. Me leaving." Naruto quickly inserted even as he captured Gaara's foot before it could kick at him again. The redhead tugged, but the blonde held firm even as he let out a deep sigh. "My whole life up until now has been California. Sure there were friends I left when I first moved away from Japan, but I was six and was determined I was going to be part of the power rangers when I grew up—orange ranger by the way. The friends that I felt were the most important I skyped, but most of my roots are in Cali. They can't be easily torn, not unless there is someone here that can make me stay," he tried to explain carefully to his volatile patient.

He was hesitant to let go of the redhead's foot for fear of him kicking him in his kidneys when his guard was down. He wasn't imagining things, he was sure behind that adorably disappointed pout on the redhead's face was the knowledge to send Naruto curled up in the fetal position and begging for his life to end. It didn't mean it didn't hit Naruto hard in the feels to see this new friend so adorably attached to him; although the redhead would deny it tooth and nail. It just made him want to hug him until all the fight left the redhead and he finally gave into the blonde's sheer awesome.

"Don't give me that look. It makes me want to hug you," Naruto groaned out hotly against Gaara's clothed thigh once he wiggled closer. He tilted his head just so to look up at the redhead before sighing. "Fuck, maybe later, I'm sleepy as hell. Jet-lag is a motherfucker," he slurred out, drunk on exhaustion.

This time it was Naruto who blacked out, head in Gaara's lap. The redhead didn't know what to do. He was sorely tempted to just role the big idiot off his legs and onto the unforgiving floor. But a bigger part of him found himself winding pale fingers into those soft, sunshiny locks, as he hesitantly petted this unique, unicorn-like creature.

"You idealistic fool," he murmured fondly, the barest hint of a smile curling his pink lips.

xXx

Gaara didn't know when he had actually gone to sleep, hands buried in Naruto's hair. But when he woke up again he realized the blonde was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't have imagined such an annoyingly heroic person if he tried, but as he green eyes raked across the room there was no sign of him.

He even scrambled out of the bed, bowels frozen in trepidation as he looked into the bathroom, but no… no one. Either he imagined himself some elaborate friend or he had been abandoned, yet again to his own devices and both options were depressing as hell.

Gaara knew he shouldn't have foolishly believed that there was anything remotely redeemable in him. He was being groomed to be a yakuza boss. He didn't have time to indulge in such hopeless wish-washy matters anyway. He honestly wanted to convince himself that even as he woodenly made his way back to the bed and crawled in.

The redhead could feel the tears, hot and itchy brimming to the service. He hadn't cried in so long he wasn't going to waste them on a guy he barely known for a full twenty-four hours, if he even known him. But they came and he quickly blamed them on his cold because there was no fucking way he was this miserably weak.

His heart was protected by sand. A fine, firm wall of precious sand that let nothing in or out to harm it. He was impenetrable and some stupid blonde that stumbled into his world and shook it up, wasn't going to change that. He had to believe that. That he was alone and always will be so he needed to get used to it so he would never be disappointed. But even as swallowed the hot lump in his throat and viciously scrubbed away the annoying tears that trickled treacherously down his throat, the door open.

"Fuck!" Naruto cursed softly. He nearly dropped the ice bucket he was holding when Gaara's deer knife grazed his arm when the redhead had thrown it. "What the hell Gaara? I was getting you some ice for your icepack. You were fucking burning up. I'm honestly think this isn't just a cold and here you are playing William Tell on me? Some friend you are," Naruto grumped. The blonde walked over to the perplexed redhead, plopped the bucket onto the nightstand table and began methodically scooping some cubes into the ice pack.

"Yo… Yo… You left me. Just like everyone else. I thought… I thought…" Gaara babbled, trying to push away his guilt in hurting his newfound friend into righteous indignation for begin abandoned.

"H…Hey there. You're not going to get rid of me that easily," Naruto murmured, quickly setting the ice packet down. He quickly climbed back into bed, shoes and all before he wrapped his arms around trembling shoulders. Chapped lips clumsily laid a kiss on the top of red-dyed locks as he began to murmur more nonsense he believed would sooth the troubled teen. "Everything's going to be okay."

Gaara was determined not to cry—again. He hated Naruto for making him feel so much in such a short period of time. He did not like the fact that he felt so weak around this blonde stranger. He wanted to blame the fact that he was sick on how he was feeling, but knew that it was more than that.

"You should have left me a note," Gaara finally murmured weakly in lieu of an apology.

"I realize that now 'oh great one'. Will you forgive your lowly servant for not waking you up or writing you a note because he was afraid you'd burn right through the bedsheets if he didn't fetch you some ice?" Naruto begged sarcastically. He couldn't even stop himself from chuckling as the redhead smacked his chest for being an asshole in front of all this emotion. "Ow, you little shit, we don't need two patients."

Gaara's ears burned as he looked anywhere but at the smiling fool beside him. He was seconds away from hardening his heart once more against this blonde when Naruto nonchalantly brushed aside the fact that Gaara had attacked him or had been crying in his absence. Sure it had been a natural defense against an intruder but the fact that Naruto didn't blame him for being him…it meant something to the yakuza member.

"I'm sorry," Gaara said gruffly. He quickly picked up the ice pack and fiddled with the lid before closing it and placing it on his burning forehead. "You… that was nice of you, this." He gestured towards the icepack and even gave a careless wave to the room because Naruto had done more for him in these few hours than anyone Gaara could remember.

"Your welcome," Naruto said sincerely. Sure the blonde could tease his patient for suddenly being so meek and humble. But he had a feeling that things like apologies or thanking people for acts of kindness was rare and far in-between. So he let it go and leaned over on his side of the bed to pull out backpack and hand Gaara some medication.

"What's this?" Gaara asked, not realizing that Naruto's bag had been under the bed. It could have gone a long way to reassuring the teen that he hadn't imagined things or been abandoned.

"Medicine. I'm pretty sure it's medicine. I can speak Japanese, but damned if I can properly read it. But, don't worry, I'm not going to molest you in your sleep. See I'm outside of the covers. I'm just going to curl up around you like so to keep you warm. Help you sweat out the fever," Naruto said before slowly demonstrating. He carefully wound his arms around the stiff body then flipped on the t.v. to some random channel.

"Are you always this annoyingly heroic?" Gaara said tersely into the uncomfortable silence, sans telelvision, that wanted to smother them like a wet blanket. He eyed a few of the medication before settling on some cold/flu night time medicine and poured out the recommended dose. He hated the bittersweet medication but he hated being sick more, so down the gullet it went.

"Nope, well not unless I find someone I think is cute. No offense, but you look like one of those tiny red pandas that you see in the zoo with your pale skin, red dyed hair and the black eyeliner around your eyes. Sort of want to put panda ears and a panda tail around you and take you wherever I go, but you can ignore that. Unless… you want to wear it?" Naruto sounded a little too eager at the end for Gaara to mistake it for

"Shut up or die," the redhead growled out. He was neither fluffy nor cute, but Gaara found himself slowly unstiffening and drifting off to sleep again to the muffled sound of the blonde's heartbeat and the laughtrack of a Japanese comedy show. He had never felt this needed and secure in his life. However, little did they know, Gaara's big sister was systematically terrorizing rival Konoha gangs, demanding to know the whereabouts of her wayward brother.

xXx

"Where are you Gaara?!" Temari demanded as soon as her little brother called her 8 something in the morning. "Are you hurt? I'm sending over a car now."

"I'm with a… a friend," Gaara said hesitantly as he tested out the word. He wrinkled his naked brow as if unsure how it sounded since it was a foreign word when applied to his self. But he couldn't deny the warm feeling he got when he said it. His head had poked out of the bathroom he had sequestered himself in when placing the call using Naruto's cell phone, a small smile springing to his lips at the sprawled out body of his sleeping companion.

"What friend? I didn't know you had any friends!" Temari snapped out peevishly.

"I'm allowed friends," Gaara said sourly. Then snorted and crossed his arms, defensively over his chest as he cradled the cell phone against his cheek and shoulder. "Besides it's none of your business. He's helping me recover."

"Does he know who you are? Are you sure he's not trying to manipulate you by getting close to you?" The blonde sibling asked gently, as if just realizing the way she had asked that question earlier had truly hurt her little brother.

"He... He saved me when some of the Sounds gang tried to attack me. I… I don't know. If it wasn't for him, I might barely be able to have taken them all by myself, you know being sick and all," he mumbled, looking at his pasty self in the mirror. His skin was blotchy, his hair was a bird's nest and his nose was still cherry red. 'How the fuck does Naruto think this is cute?' he thought. He looked like death warmed over.

"Are you sure it wasn't a set up? That he's not trying to get close to you in order to assassinate you later. I'm only saying this because I want the best for our family," Temari reasoned. It was clear she wanted Gaara back under her supervision or at least under the supervision of Gaara's bodyguards.

"Yes, nee-san," Gaara said dutifully. He strolled out the room and retrieved his deer knife that was embedded in the motel's wall. Then he peered down at the drooling, gap-mouthed blonde. He wouldn't be able to climb back into the bed again even if he wanted to the way Naruto was star-fished out. If that was an assassin, then he was actually fucking Mary Poppins. But he wasn't stupid, he secreted his deer knife away because if his nee-san was right, he wanted to be prepared.

"Gaara tell me where you are? You need to come home. Either way I'm going to find you. This number is being tracked as we speak," Temari insisted.

"Of course it is, that's why I'm leaving. Bye sis," he murmured nonchalantly, knowing how much Temari hated 'sis'. He didn't need anyone telling him who he could and couldn't make friends with. He already had those doubts already, plus he wasn't ready to let go of the blonde just yet.

"Wake up sleeping beauty, we have to leave," he murmured giving the blonde's shoulder a vicious shake. He had no doubt his sister was tracking them from the phone. That's why he popped out the blonde's cell phone battery and tucked it back in the blonde's hoodie on the floor before moving to wake up the reluctant blonde.

"Five more minutes, Jiraiya you ole' bastard," Naruto murmured sleepily, rolling over to hug a pillow to his chest. It was kind of cute, drool and all.

Gaara smiled viciously, before dragging the comforter he was on, off so that the blonde fell gracelessly to the floor with a loud squawk of protest before he swore up a storm. Gaara chuckled softly, feeling slightly better already after the fever had broken. The blonde had been a big help and he deserved a reward for his kindness. So Gaara rumpled the blonde's and made his way confidently towards the door knowing the blonde would shortly follow. "Come on, I'll treat you to some McDonalds."

"Are you fucking kidding me? The way you woke me up I want IHOP or the Japanese equivalent. JIHOP? Whatever you're taking me and I'm eating everything and your ass is paying," Naruto swore as he picked himself up. Placed all his shit in his bag, making sure everything was there, put a bandage on his small knife cut from last night, then tugged on his hoodie and felt for his cell phone.

"Whatever you say friend," Gaara said, the smallest of smiles dancing across his lips. He liked saying that word 'friend'. He liked it a whole lot even if said friend made a point to throw him a dirty look for obvious mistreatment as he followed him out. Naruto was fun; Naruto was friendly; Naruto was unpredictable; and man could Gaara use a little bit of all three in his life right now.


End file.
